Page 84 of Threads of Kindness
John turned his face toward hers, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s allow them to make that decision,” he said with a smile.
Anita fastenedthe final button on the back of Sunday’s wedding gown, her fingers steady with practice. She smoothed the back of the satin skirt, coaxing the fabric into a flawless fall.
Sunday’s long blonde hair was swept into a reverse French braid, its delicate weave secured by a vintage hair comb glinting beneath her cathedral-length veil. The lace-edged tulle cascaded down her back, softening the structured lines of the gown.
Anita turned the bride toward the door and adjusted the train one last time.
Lyla stood beside Sunday, looking regal in an eggplant-colored A-line gown. Her thick silver hair framed her face in a sleek, chin-length bob.
“Thank you for showing me how to bustle the train,” Lyla said. “I’ve never done that before. It’s complicated with all those hooks and loops.”
“If you need any help, you know where to find me,” Anita replied with a smile.
Lyla nodded, her expression tender as she looked at Sunday.
Anita stepped toward the door and turned, her eyes sweeping over the bride.
“You look radiant, my dear. I know I’m not objective, but I think you look even more beautiful in that dress than Kate Middleton did in hers.”
Sunday, who had been twisting her embroidered handkerchief in her hands, let out a small laugh.
“It’s almost time,” Anita said. “I need to join Gordon so we can take our seats. You’ll be coming down that aisle in a few moments.” She opened the door and slipped out.
Gordon, who had been waiting near the sanctuary doors, extended his elbow as Anita approached.
“I was getting worried there was some last-minute snafu,” he said.
Anita shook her head as they walked together. “Everything’s going as planned. And Sunday looks perfect.”
On the outskirts of campus, Jeff turned into the western entrance of Highpointe College and followed the signs to the chapel.
“We’re going to be late,” Judy said, wringing her hands. “And I’m entirely to blame. I made the decision this morning while I was getting dressed. I should’ve made it weeks ago. Sunday and Josh—they’re exactly the couple I want living in my old house.”
“What did Tim say when you called him?” Jeff asked, eyes on the winding drive.
“He said there are lots of legal ways to handle a sale when a buyer doesn’t have their financing in place. Lease with an option to purchase, seller carry-back—all kinds of things. I wrote in their card that, if they want the house, it’s theirs. We’ll work out the details whenever they’re ready.”
“I wish we could see their faces when they open it,” Jeff said. “I can only imagine how thrilled they’ll be.”
He pulled into the chapel parking lot as quickly as he dared and slid into a vacant space. They both jumped out.
“I’m sorry I made us late,” Judy said, breathless as they sprinted toward the steps.
Jeff grabbed her hand and pressed it to his chest. “They haven’t started yet,” he said as he pulled open the chapel doors. “We made it.”
“Nervous?”Lyla asked gently, her hand brushing Sunday’s arm.
Sunday nodded, her expression open and honest. “I’m not having second thoughts or anything … but, yes. I’m nervous.”
“Anyone would be,” Lyla said. She handed Sunday the bouquet—a hand-tied gathering of the same flowers gracing the altar, finished with a long satin ribbon. The lilacs brought out the purple in Sunday’s amethyst eyes.
A soft knock sounded on the door, and Susan stuck her head in. “Ready? It’s go-time.”
“You look lovely in that lavender silk dress,” Lyla told her. “You’re the most glamorous pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.”
Susan beamed, gave her bump a gentle pat, and opened the door wide. “And you are the most stunning bride, Sunday.”Susan picked up her own bouquet—a smaller version of the bride’s—and walked to the entrance of the sanctuary.
The opening chords of the wedding march rang out from the organ. Inside, guests swiveled to face the back.
